Love the Coat
by Taamar
Summary: How did Ianto end up working for Torchwood Three? That depends on who you ask.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This is me playing with character voice and first person POV. I know this scene had been rehashed eleventy-billion times, but I wanted to see if I could tell two very different stories about the exact same events, which means Jack's version will be up before too long. If you're utterly sick of this scene, feel free to tell me where I can stick it. Not that I will, but it may make you feel better.

* * *

 **IANTO**

It was not the outcome I had hoped for. There I was, standing in the park like an idiot as he walked away. He had thanked me for my help, and all I could think to say was "By the way, love the coat." How pathetic is that? I'd dressed specifically to tempt him, thrown myself into danger to catch his eye, and it all came down to "Love the coat" as he walked away without even a backward glance. In my defense, he did smell amazing. I hadn't been expecting that. Until Jack Harkness, I couldn't have imagined that I'd find a man's scent 'amazing'.

You have to understand, I had never intended to be enticed by him. I was the hunter, he was the prey. Looking back, I can't believe I was ever that naïve, but Canary Wharf was only a few weeks behind me, and I had a head full of trauma , a memory of blood and screaming, and a half-converted girlfriend begging me to save her, so I wasn't exactly in top form. I had done my research, of course. It's what I do, how I keep my world from turning into a tangled mess that leaves me saying things like "Love the coat". Research had told me that Torchwood Three was the only place with the resources to save Lisa, so that's where I had to go. I knew it was led by Jack Harkness. Properly 'Captain' Jack Harkness, though nothing in his records indicated a reason for the rank, so I shoved it aside as an affectation. Personnel records are almost always incomplete- mine had been, even before I altered it- filled mostly with dry facts and raw data that tell one very little about the person, but Harkness's file was even worse than most. It listed no birth date or date of hire, had no school records, and contained no information whatsoever about his family. I thought I'd be going in blind until I found the little classified folder detailing all the times Yvonne Hartman had him followed, as well as her scathing commentary about his personal life. It was, ironically, exactly the information I needed most.

Jack Harkness liked men. Okay, it was clear from the reports that he liked damn near anything, but that was irrelevant to my plans. I've never considered myself particularly attractive, but I'm not bad looking, and I'm tall, slender, and young. It seemed like a good place to start; tight jeans and necklace to draw attention to the tease of chest hair peeking out of my shirt were the best I could do from there. Before going out to follow him, hoping for a good chance to interact and introduce myself, I went to Lisa to tell her my plan. She laughed and told me that if I couldn't attract him with my personality I should just make sure he got a good look at my arse. I think I blushed; Lisa always thought more of me than I did of myself. It's part of why I loved her so much.

Following Harkness was easier than I had imagined, what with the flashy SUV and all, and he was in _Cardiff_ \- home territory for me. So when he ended up at Bute Park, I trailed him, hoping it was some sort of alert. It was. A Weevil was perfect for my plan, so I whacked the beast, and it came after me. I wondered for a moment if perhaps I hadn't thought it through completely, but Harkness pulled the creature off me, and I got myself back under control. Mostly under control, I should say, because while Captain Jack Harkness was handsome in pictures, in person he was breathtaking. I couldn't afford to be distracted, though. I mentioned something about the bleeding on his neck, knowing a bit about his accelerated healing from Hartman's reports, but he sidestepped it. When I admitted that I recognized the Weevil, he shut me out completely. He picked up the Weevil and carried it away, leaving me with a vision of swirling wool and that incredible scent. And then I said it: "By the way, love the coat."

What the hell was I supposed to do next? It was clear that the oblique approach wasn't going to work, so I decided to be more forward. I put on similar clothes (Lisa was right, he had looked at my arse. Stick with what works.) and headed to Roald Dahl Plass with coffee. He'd have to stop moving long enough to drink it, and that would give me time to make my pitch. Turned out I needn't have bothered; he'd done his own research, and I was glad I'd altered my own personnel records when I'd looked his up. Not that I changed them much- I needed to appear harmless, nonthreatening; I knew he'd never hire me if he knew everything. Again, he brushed me off. Physically brushed me off, actually. No, more than that, he told me quite clearly that there was no hope, that he'd never hire me. Then Jack Harkness walked away from me for the second time, and I was so distracted I did it again. "I really like that coat."

I went back to talk to Lisa, and she laughed at me a bit more and told me that I was rubbish at flirting. I hadn't intended to flirt, but something about him brought it out in me. It's not like I'd never looked at a man with curiosity, but I'd never considered one with intent, and it was more than a bit disconcerting. Lisa said she didn't mind. She told me that it was okay if my eye wandered a bit, since she knew she still had my heart. Another reason I loved her. And she was brilliant, too; she came up with another plan.

I hadn't known it would rain when I chose to wear a suit. Bloody Cardiff, I should have known to prepare for rain. The suit, though, had been Lisa's idea. "If looking available didn't catch him," she said with a wink, "Maybe looking unapproachable will?"

I don't think 'unapproachable' quite describes how I looked standing soaking wet in the rain in front of that SUV. Certainly Captain Harkness wasn't impressed; he threatened to drive over me. I almost lost him before I managed to catch his interest with my excuse for stopping him. "You're not going to help me catch this pterodactyl, then?" At least it wasn't about his coat, which still looked fantastic, even wet.

Technically it was a pteranodon, but there's a time for pedantry and a time for expedience, and never let it be said that Ianto Jones can't distinguish between them. I'd taken a Rift Activity Locator from the ruins of Canary Wharf and tracked a flare, hoping to meet Harkness at the site. I hadn't expected an agitated dinosaur dive-bombing me. Not precisely a dinosaur actually, but, again, expedience. It had been a stroke of good fortune that I had chocolate in my pocket and that she'd been interested, and I'd been more than a bit surprised by how easily she followed me into that warehouse. I had no idea how we would catch and sedate her, let alone transport her, but I knew the Captain wouldn't be able to resist. I smiled as he took his coat off just inside the warehouse.

A poorly thought out exchange about pheromones, some begging on my part, a ride from an angry pterodactyl, and he ended up on top of me. What had I been thinking, trying to catch him? He's not any taller than I am, but he's broader in the shoulder, and I knew from seeing him heft that Weevil that he carried quite a bit of muscle. Then the pterodactyl started to plummet and Jack rolled us away and I was on top of him, laughing. No comments about the coat, no accusations of stalking, just us pressed together, breathing hard, his chin tilting up slightly in invitation. And I didn't know what to do. Lisa had said she didn't mind, that she knew my heart was hers, but I've never been able to separate arousal from emotion, and I was feeling both. I almost gave in and kissed him, but managed a breathy "I should go," before pushing myself up and turning to leave.

Jack told me to report to work the next day, and he complimented my suit. Mission accomplished, right? Yet I felt hollow. Why had I stopped before kissing him? Why did I want to so badly? Did he want me, or was it the excitement of the moment? Why did I even care, since I was just trying to save Lisa? How had I, just for a moment, forgotten Lisa completely as I lay in Jack's arms? My chest tightened and my eyes burned. I wondered how success could feel so much like failure. As I walked away I saw Harkness's coat lying in a pile by the warehouse door. Unable to vent my emotions any other way, I kicked it as I passed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Yup, as promised, here's Jack, who doesn't know what to make of Ianto. Isn't he just adorable when he's thinking with his genitals?

* * *

 **JACK**

What was I supposed to think? Hot guy dressed like he was advertising, and watching me like he was trying to look interested. Like I can't tell the difference between real desire and feigned attraction after all these years. I knew the moment it shifted, too. He reached out and mentioned the cut on my neck, and his breathing changed. I was tempted, so tempted, to find out why he was there, what he was offering, but he knew what a Weevil was, and that made him a potential threat. I had to know more before I did anything. "Jones. Ianto Jones," he'd said. I wondered if he knew that he'd given me the key to his entire life with just his name. I slung the Weevil over my shoulder, thanked him, and as I walked away I heard him call out, "Anytime. By the way, love the coat."

Great line, huh? I didn't turn around for another look because I didn't want him to see my grin. It wasn't the kind of line anyone plans, which meant he was looking for an excuse to say one more thing before I was out of range. It meant that he was interested in me. Hot, interested, and impulsive, which was just about perfect. So when I got back to the Hub I did a little research and promptly came to the conclusion that I wanted nothing at all to do with Mr. Ianto Jones. Torchwood One, and a Canary Wharf survivor? Not many survivors, and even fewer healthy enough to go after a Weevil with a tree branch. No chance our encounter was coincidence, so I suspected he wanted a job, though I couldn't imagine why, after all he'd seen. I smirked when I looked at his personnel file. 'Able but not exceptional'. Clever of Yvonne to hire him for research and archives; a brilliant mind with access to that kind of information would be dangerous. Still, not a mess I wanted to get involved in, so I put Jones, his tight jeans, and his exquisite arse out of my mind.

Mr. Jones was waiting for me outside the tourist office the next morning, wearing a different outfit in the same style and offering a cup of coffee. Best coffee I'd ever had, actually, and I felt my resolve wavering. No, I told myself, there was no way I was going give in just because he showed up with coffee precisely as I was heading out for my much-needed caffeine fix. It was an excellent strategy, for sure, but I wasn't going to fall for it. I recited his CV to him, including the name of his girlfriend. I'd known she died at the Battle, but I wanted to know if he'd admit it. He did.

I tried to leave him behind a few times, but Jones was a tenacious bastard, and he kept stopping me, stepping in front of me and trying to present his case. He was clearly desperate, even offering to work for free, and I was almost tempted to hire him just to find out what was so important to him, but I held back. I told him there was no place for him, and as I walked away he complimented my coat again. And again, I smiled to myself. Whatever it was that had him wanting into Torchwood Three, he was clearly intrigued by me on a personal level. It was a damn shame that I didn't intend to do anything about it. Have I already mentioned how good he looked in those jeans? Amazing.

Dark. Raining. And I really didn't want to be out on a Rift call, but the others were busy with various things, so there I was. And there was Ianto Jones stepping calmly into the road in front of me. I hit the brakes. What the hell? Had I not been clear enough? Was he as unbalanced as the other survivors? I was wet, tired, and angry, and was just about to ram him with the SUV when he mentioned the pterodactyl.

By the time we got to the warehouse my coat was soaked and heavy, so I stripped it off and tossed it by the door. When we first went in for a look, the thing swooped down at us, and we dodged right back out the door. He commented on my aftershave, and I admit I preened a little. I didn't mean to mention '51st century pheromones', but I was distracted, busy thinking about what it meant that Ianto Jones could smell them. The thing most people don't understand about my pheromones is that they can't _make_ someone want me; a person who truly isn't interested won't even notice them. That he did, and enough to comment on it, meant that he wanted me. And I was attracted to him too, in that wet suit that clung to him in all the right places. If the jeans had been enough to make my mouth water, this suit made it go dry. Mind-numbing.

 _Job to do_ , I told myself _, think about the pretty one later_. I promised myself a bit of _personal time_ later in the evening to fantasize and got my mind back on the target. He begged for a job again, and I had to admit we worked well together. Very well, in fact. It didn't even occur to me to wonder why he had dark chocolate, or how he knew the pterodactyl would be interested in it. In hindsight, there were a lot of things I didn't notice which, looking back, was surely his plan. Then I was up in the air, and the creature shook me off, and I fell into Ianto's arms, knocking him to the ground. I flipped us out of the way of the falling dinosaur, laughing harder than I had in a long time. He felt so good there, on top of me. I wanted so badly to kiss him. No– I wanted _him_ to kiss _me_. I wanted him to follow through on the silent offer he'd made when he reached for me that first night in the park, but he didn't. He pulled away from me with an awkward, "I should go."

Had I finally scared him off? Suddenly, I couldn't bear the thought of Ianto Jones walking away from me. I told myself that it was because I admired his resourcefulness and determination, but looking back it was because I had felt his erection against my hip and mine against his thigh, and I wanted more. I offered him a job. And I complimented his suit. I hadn't planned to say it; I was just looking for one more thing to say to him before he was out of range.


End file.
